


Customer Service

by lavenderseer



Category: Ouran High School Host Club - All Media Types
Genre: Customer Service, commoner work b hard, this is an important crackfic to me
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-12
Updated: 2020-05-12
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:08:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24146401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lavenderseer/pseuds/lavenderseer
Summary: After one too many comments rubs Haruhi up the wrong way, she bets that not a single host would be able to handle the stress of a casual commoner's job. Fortunately, Kyouya likes bets.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 28





	Customer Service

**Author's Note:**

> pls let me kno if yall want more im prepared to do a chapter per person at the job dude

Another day at the host club, and truly, one Haruhi Fujioka was exhausted. Not out of strain, nor any hard work, not even academic stress. She was exhausted because of all these damn rich people. While she would say this so very often, too often for her to keep track of, it always seemed to be played off as some sort of joke; she supposed, to an extent, it _was_ a joke. Haha, the scholarship commoner, grown mildly irked by the antics of those better off than her, what a chuckle. Right now, though? She had been dragged under the arm of self-professed mentor and father figure Tamaki, talking about how absolutely dreadful those commoners have it.

“Truly, Haruhi, how do you do it? The collective you, you know, your people,” He began, earning him a very irritated expression. Her _people_? Alright. Sure. She was the spokesperson for everyone below upper class, apparently. “Rent, and needing to cook for themselves and _god_ , do we even need to mention the jobs? I do think it would be much better if they just… didn’t have them! It’s petty work, in all honesty. They’re so pitiable!” He would let out a sigh, resting his head languidly on the shoulder of an incredibly tensed Haruhi. Almost as if he didn’t notice, he moved to kneel beside one of their guests, exclaiming how she would be undoubtedly so kind as to leave a tip of more than twenty percent. He could see it in her eyes, apparently.

Apparent head of the poor person jury Haruhi took his dramatics as an opportunity to leave. Not the room, of course, but just… the situation. She could go and get herself a cup of tea, taking a deep breath to calm herself down, though she could safely say that it didn’t work in the slightest. The warm tea going down her throat just reminded her of the heat of her absolute rage at his comments. After so long in the club, having paid off her debt, she knew better than to have too may outbursts toward the King, if only for the problems it would cause later for everyone. Mushrooms were surprisingly hard to get rid of when they were steeping so determinedly in the corner by a saddened Tamaki Suoh.

It was like the rest of the Host Club could sense her anger; unbridled, yet hidden under a horrifyingly content mask. They knew she was planning something. That’s what the twins murmured to themselves at the very least, with a just barely too loud Hani to confirm their suspicions.

“You know, it seems like Haru-chan is upset! I think Tama-chan might have said something deeply insensitive to her about commoners and their lifestyle.” Chimed the short blond, with an accompanied grunt of agreement from the monolith of a man he clung onto by his shoulders. “But it isn’t her fault all commoners have to go through so much! Even if the jobs are kinda menial, it’s really inspiring!” _Inspiring?_ The brunette thought, eye just barely twitching. _There’s nothing necessarily inspiring about it!_ _It’s a job the same as any high profile job out there!_ God, she was so… pissed off. Well and truly. She looked over to them, raising an eyebrow. A collective shiver ran through (almost) everyone’s spine. She was planning on something, alright. Something far more than the four that huddled together might have ever anticipated.

It was after the club hours had ended that Haruhi spoke to any of the hosts unless it specifically revolved around host activities (with the important exception of Tamaki, who just got no contact whatsoever with her, much to his loud and obvious dismay). With him still sniffling like a child whose parent noticed that they weren’t hurt until eye contact was made, she cleared her throat, idly clearing up a tray of intricately painted porcelain. “You know guys, it’s really difficult to focus on my hosting when you manage to bring any and everything back to the concept of me being a commoner. I get that, yunno, that was initially part of my draw or, whatever you’d like to refer to it as, but I feel like it’s high time that that just, stops being my calling card? Just a concept.” Not unlike a turnable knob on a Bop-It, a metaphorical knife in the princely host’s heart twisted. He’d really hurt Haruhi _that badly?_ He’d gone out of his way to mention it so many times, a realisation that already had him damn near grovelling at her feet for forgiveness, as if he hadn’t even thought for a moment that his unneeded and, quite frankly, ignorant comments on an entire very large group of people to which Haruhi belonged was what brought about her palpable annoyance. This begging was ignored, in favour of her turning to the rest of the group. “Well? Any input, guys?” She said, gently shaking off the leg that was being pawed at.

“While I do understand the necessity for separation from your socio-economic status, Haruhi, it would seem that you’re only so popular for such a thing. You endear our clients to the lower class through your charm and general air of quaintness.” A bespectabled boy spoke without looking from his book, pen scrawling idly in it.  
“I _endear them to the lower class?_ ”  
“Well, yeah,” piped Hikaru, raising an eyebrow at her as he lounged with his brother, one leg bouncing on top of the other as he crossed them. “You’re a real inspiring story, in your own way. Even a lowly commoner can rise from the gross underbelly of middle class.”  
“Really, it’s impressive, it just shows with hard work, you could all reach that level of achievement!” said Kaoru, shrugging softly as he folded his arms. “Don’t think of it as an insult or anything, it’s quite the opposite. After all, you did it for us, too! We don’t think of poor people nearly as badly as we used to, after meeting you.”

Haruhi blinked incredulously. Were these guys serious? They were. Holy shit. She let out a laugh, pinching the bridge of her nose as she listened in. “And what, exactly, do you all know about hard work? What do you guys know about rising up from anything to get where you are now? Your families are—are incredibly influential! There was no rising to be done by you in particular, so what, I’m your weird story to pedal to the public? I bet none of you have worked an honest day in your life, especially,” She looked down to the still sobbing blond, scowling heavily. “ _You._ ” Maybe the venom in that was a tad uncalled for, but god. She was so mad, maybe unreasonably so.

“I doubt any of you could handle a day doing the ‘pitiable commoner work’ that you claim to be so necessary but ultimately still worth nothing. Not a single one of you could do it.”“Excuse you! I don’t think it’s worth nothing! Just very little in the grand scheme of things! It’s easy work, it doesn’t _have_ to be incredible or anything!” cried Tamaki, as if this was some great gotcha. Teach her to misquote the man of the hour. The statement only made her more angered, of course, maybe noticeably so with the way he moved to cower behind the two tall ravenettes that stood before her. “You think it’s easy?” She let out a laugh, rubbing her temples slowly. “You honestly think it’s easy. Do it, then! Do it for a day. Just one casual shift.”  
“Mommy, what’s a casual shift?”  
“A casual shift is a period of time worked by a casual worker, which, before you ask, is someone who works very little. They’re generally around our age, though some adult casual workers are out there. Generally, these shifts go from three to six hours, though it can be more. The level of work is determined by total weekly hours, not a mere day’s work.”  
“You guys are talking about it like it’s some random species of insect or something… Look- I’ll consider forgiving your really, _really_ ignorant comments if you can prove to me that any of you could do it. At all. Five hours of work, that’s all I want you to do.” Haruhi knew damn well that they wouldn’t manage. Look at them. They’re so caught up in just the imagery that those of them that generally show emotion look vaguely disgusted.

But maybe not as disgusted as she was.

“You’d think that if I’d really managed to endear you to the general public that you wouldn’t act like it was something so terrible. This really isn’t…” She sighed softly. “Forget about it. You’re not forgiven, but I already know you’ll end up trying to get out of it anyhow.”

Now, Kyouya wasn’t a stupid man. He looked around the room at his peers. He knew that most of them would fail dismally, but a few of them had potential. He could make this interesting, at least for himself. “No no, I believe that what you’ve suggested could be of benefit for every member of the Host Club, perhaps yourself included. If you’re so convinced of our failure, then might I propose a bet?” He smiled softly, moving to sit gently on a nearby chair. “Each and everyone one of us will go and secure a single shift at a commoner establishment of your choosing. When and if we fail, we will report back to you. If you’re correct, you get the satisfaction of knowing that we lived up to your terrible, though somewhat deserved, expectations of us, along with whatever money we earned during our shift. If any single one of us succeeds, then you will have to personally reimburse us for time wasted. Though, I’d be more than happy to put it into an arrangement much like our last.”

Haruhi took a moment to look at him. That smug smile, the idly flipping pen. His flippancy only strengthened her conviction. “Fine. That’s a deal.”  
“Hold up- we don’t get a say in this at all?” Hikaru asked, leaning over a bit.  
“Yeah, it’s not like it’s our bodies on the line here or anything.” Kaoru finished.  
“Now now, we’ve – and by we’ve, I mean predominantly Tamaki – have managed to upset Haruhi quite a bit. It would only be right to try and make it up to her in some way shape or form, would it not?”

With a begrudging agreement from all of them, though some were snivelled out pathetically, and others were met with trademark enthusiasm or stoicism, it was set in stone. Haruhi spent some time thinking about it, where they might be suited to. She didn’t want to make it too horrible for them, really. Only one to three of them deserved it. Tamaki would be a barista for the day, given his passion for coffee as so evidently displayed, at Starbucks; Hikaru and Kaoru would not be paired together as she figured that putting them like that would heighten the likelihood of a mess up on their part, as well as giving the club ample chance to uphold their one and only goal of having a single member stay on without incident, and would be assigned to Wendy’s and McDonald’s, respectively. Kyouya, she would lend to Burger King. No particular reason aside from, maybe, she didn’t want any familiarity with McDonald’s on his part to affect his work. This had to be a fresh start for them. Hani would find himself at Baskin Robbins, she figured she would appreciate it considering his love for sweet things. And Mori would go to KFC. Why this selection?

Why, they were all in the same food court, of course. There was a small worry that perhaps hubris might be her downfall here. Maybe they would find themselves settled into their work easily? Performing through customer service in a breeze? Now that she thought about it like that?

Nah.


End file.
